Searching for clues: It happens only in India

The man was comparatively young. Comparatively dynamic. And now, he is dead. There have been speeches galore. Tributes galore. A state funeral. But all in vain. Bad timing, bad karma and bad judgement did YSR in. Whether you were his foe or friend, there is no denying the tragedy – an avoidable tragedy at that.

Of course, there will be the usual enquiries and buck passing. Of course, conspiracy theories will do the rounds. But for those with no axe to grind and nothing to gain or lose from the death of AP’s chief minister, several troubling questions may go unanswered. Apart from anything else, four other lives were lost along with YSR’s. Nobody has paid the slightest attention to the sorry plight of their families. Whose decision was it to take the doomed flight into hostile terrain in miserable weather? Do the loved ones of the pilots, group captain S K Bhatia, captain M S Reddy and the relatives of YSR’s principal secretary S Subramanayam, plus his chief security officer

A S C Wesley, have no right to question authorities, demand explanations? Or are their lives less valuable, somehow?

Watching the coverage across TV channels, it was distressing to note that the disaster was covered in such an insensitive and lop-sided manner. Granted, a VIP was killed and deserved extensive coverage – but to the exclusion of the others?

That is the trouble in India – this is but one example of our feudalistic mindset that only recognizes and values Very Important People. We forget them equally fast, but that’s another story. In this case, the ‘Tiger of Cuddapah’ was felled under circumstances that remain unclear. After all, that speculation about the chopper being shot down by armed Maoists lurking in the Nallamalla hills, there are other self-styled theorywallahs who refuse to accept that it was nothing more dramatic than perhaps a pilot error that caused the devastating crash. Such is the vitiated and vicious political climate in the country, that people are willing to believe the worst rumours.

YSR was the star fund collector of the Congress party. In a way, he was also the ‘anointed one’ – a recent development that did not suit several well-entrenched members of the inner coterie. In much the same way that Madhavrao Scindia’s rapid rise in the party hierarchy upset the top Chanakyas in the cabinet at the time. Ironically, the erstwhile Maharaja also died in a crash.

This is India, boss. We can’t help it if we search wildly for clues that satisfy us when tragedy strikes. Some consult the stars – as has happened in YSR’s case (inauspicious muhurutam for the swearing-in ceremony, it seems!), others use robust common sense (why would an intelligent, educated, dynamic leader insist on flying into hostile territory given the hideous weather?).

And then there are those who claim to be ‘in the know’. These are the dangerous ones who parade hearsay as the gospel truth and propagate malicious bazaar gossip that we so love! Whether or not YSR met his ghastly end on account of several collective errors of judgement rather than a sinister conspiracy to bump him off, the speculations will carry on – sorry – but that’s how it is when any prominent person suffers an unnatural, untimely death. And frankly, politicians should learn to deal with the muck that follows rather than suppress the voices of those asking uncomfortable questions. YSR’s followers have the right to know how it happened, why it happened. Plus, citizens would appreciate an honest response to the question, ‘After YSR, who?’

Again, it is such an Indian thing to do when a politician dies in office – authorities promptly install the son/widow/daughter/girlfriend on his gaddi. This is desi sentimentality at its ickiest. It is hoped better sense will prevail this time. YSR was a unique character, described admiringly as ‘stubborn’ by his fans. It was this trait that got the Congress its stunning tally of 33 seats in the last elections. Clearly, his 1,400 kms padayatra in 2003 paid rich dividends. And had impressed 10 Janpath sufficiently to promote YSR – from just another regional satrap to a valued national leader.

Such an elevated and pampered position comes with its own risk factors. YSR was flying high – really high. But not high enough this time. The ill-fated, 11-year-old helicopter taking the CM to the launch of his rachcha banda (village camp), crashed into a low hill and smashed into smithereens. With that ended the fascinating saga of YSR – the aam aadmi politician whose life was abruptly cut down on a stormy morning, leaving the perplexed nation wondering whether such a horrific accident could have been avoided.

It’s a shame that it takes a tragedy to raise tricky questions. But going by the sms-es doing the rounds, here’s one that needs to be addressed in the spirit of fair and free enquiry – "Billed as ‘India’s biggest ever search’ 5,000 jawans, an ISRO remote-sensing aircraft, a Sukhoi, 14 search and rescue choppers, the forest department police, paramilitary forces, Chenchu tribal guides…. all mobilized within three short hours for a missing CM. Was the Central government sleeping during the 60 hours of Mumbai terror attacks on 26/11?"

Saach ka Saamna, anyone?

DISCLAIMER : Views expressed above are the author's own.

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One of India's most popular writers, Shobhaa De has seen it all: life as a model, a copywriter, a journalist, a socialite, a scriptwriter, a bestselling novelist and a busy mother of six children. "Politically Incorrect", which has been appearing as a column in The Times of India, carries her sharp observations on politics, society, economy and relationships.

One of India's most popular writers, Shobhaa De has seen it all: life as a model, a copywriter, a journalist, a socialite, a scriptwriter, a bestselling nov. . .